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He couldn‘t believe his ears. “I‘m sorry, what did you say? I couldn‘t quite hear you.” “I said yes, I want to marry you,” she said, smiling. “I want to be your wife. It would
make me the happiest woman in the world because no man has ever loved me the way you do and as much as you do.”
They hugged and he cried on her shoulder like a baby. His lifelong dream was coming true right before his eyes. The love of his life had accepted his marriage proposal, she was going to give him a baby, and they were going to share a beautiful house. What more could he possibly ask for?
Karla was in her living room that afternoon, sitting on her sofa, reading a celebrity-gossip magazine. Caleb had just come home from work and he was unlocking the door with his key. She looked up at the door. She still wasn‘t used to this married life and she wondered if Caleb was an old-fashioned, chauvinistic man or if he was a modern man adapted to the twenty-first century, accepting of the fact that everything had changed. She hadn‘t made him any dinner. He would work all day in his office as the president of a new electronics company that was on business since days after his marriage to Karla. Obviously he would bring all the money to the house, and lots of it. He was fortunate to make millions and millions of dollars a year. For a moment, Karla was afraid of Caleb‘s reaction when she told him that she hadn‘t made dinner for him. Caleb never hired any chefs because he loved Karla‘s food. He finally came in, closed the door behind him, took off his jacket and accommodated it on the sofa. He walked closer to her and gave her a hug and a kiss. “How are you doing?”
“I‘m doing well. How was work today?”
“Oh, same old, same old, but it was good.” He walked around the sofa and then sat beside her. “Ahh,” he said with a sigh, “it‘s a routine that I love and one that brings food to our table every day.”
“You seem to be thinking a lot about food this afternoon,” she noted, with her magazine closed up, looking him in the eyes.
“I‘m hungry. It‘s almost five. Of course I can‘t stop thinking about food.” “I didn‘t make dinner for us today,” she said, scared.
“Ok,” he said. He didn‘t understand why she was acting like this.
“I thought you‘d be angry.”
“Angry, are you kidding? We could order some pizza for you and me. The kids can‘t eat that stuff yet. They eat the delicious Gerber food and cereal and fruit…awesome things like that. They won‘t gain too much weight if they eat junk food, but we don‘t want them to get used to eating junk food, now do we?” he got up and walked to the phone in the living room right by the sofa.
“We want the kids to eat healthy most of the time and eat junk food sparingly, but they‘re much too young to eat junk food.”
Caleb ordered two large pizzas for him and Karla, one pepperoni, her favorite, and one supreme, his favorite. He paid for it with his debit card. Then, he hung up and said, “You don‘t have to cook every single day, you know? Actually you can cook only when you want to. I don‘t mind. I love your food.”
“Thank you for being so understanding, Caleb,” she said, smiling.
They shared a hug.